Control
by Sam-Tony
Summary: Control is a very slippery thing, especially when you're in danger of losing it. Eliot/Nate - D/s


Title: Control

Author: Sam-Tony

Fandom: Leverage

Pairing: Eliot/Nate

Rating: FRAO - slash, D/s, angst

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Disclaimer: Not mine, no money made.

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Summary: Control is a very slippery thing, especially when you're in danger of losing it.

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A/N: SPOILERS for The Snow Job. The bunny bit about 20 minutes in…and that was *before* the good stuff. Some dialog taken from the show, but not via scripts so it may be a bit off.

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Control

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Whoever said being drunk wasn't liberating clearly had not yet had enough to drink.

Watching the little group - his team - prowl around his suite of the Miami Grand hotel, grumbling their lack of faith at a plan that seemed to have fallen apart, Nate sprawled back in the plush chair and took another sip of his drink. A few more minutes and another couple of servings and he should just about be able to get a little sleep tonight.

"You're not in control!"

Eliot's sharp criticisms brought the conversation back to his attention and Nate felt a bitter smile curve his lips, a recklessness he hadn't felt in too long sober coursing through his veins.

"You gonna control me, Eliot?"

The room went quiet as ice blue eyes bore into his and for a moment sanity threatened to rear its ugly head as images of the belt Eliot sometimes used flashed through his head. But then the anger returned, wiping out the threat of discipline and replacing it with the alcoholic buzz of self-righteous indignation. This was his team - they had come to *him* and they could still leave at any time.

"I ain't yer daddy. You want to drink yourself into oblivion be my guest. But you're takin' me down with ya and that is my business."

"You know what, you talk too much. Why don't you go skip go rope or something?"

He watched in rabid fascination, his eyes tracking slightly off center as Eliot surged up from the chair he had claimed in the corner, all coiled grace and harnessed power. "Skip some…I'll skip your drunk ass off this marble floor."

Moving quickly to stand between them, Sophie held her hands up holding Eliot at bay with the simple fact that he wouldn't hit a woman. At least not without probable cause.

"Okay...I need to talk to Nate alone."

Nate heard Sophie, but the only one in his vision was Eliot, hair flying wild in his agitation, emotions high. Beautiful. Dangerous. And *pissed*. At him. Looking back and forth between them, it was clear by the sudden draining of tension in the strong shoulders when Eliot made the decision to give Sophie a shot at him. Turning on his heel, he left the room, snarling, "You do that."

Shame that wasn't what Nate wanted.

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Twenty minutes later and Sophie's pleas had fallen on mostly deaf ears, Nate counting down the time until she left and he could pass out in peace. Spotting Eliot in the doorframe pretty much blew any hope he had of that ever happening some time tonight. Of course the deadly intent in his eyes said that might not be a bad thing.

"Close the door," Eliot told her, quiet, controlled. Deadly.

Stalking back into the suite's main room as Sophie left in a huff, Eliot stopped in front of him, holding his eyes all the way.

"Down. Now."

"Eliot - "

Nate had planned on being defiant. Had every intention of telling the younger man to go screw himself, Nate didn't need a keeper. If he wanted to get drunk and stay drunk, well that was his business, now wasn't it?

"I said DOWN NOW!" Eliot growled. Though quiet, the whip-crack sharp command cut through the normally laid back drawl, sending a frisson of fear and arousal through him like a jolt of electricity. "I will *not* tell you again."

All but falling from his chair, Nate dropped.

Wincing as his knees hit the marble floor, Nate felt the younger man's anger like a physical thing in the room, pushing against his skin even through the fog of the alcohol.

"Better. Now I know this has something to do with your son - "

"Don't go there." Nate warned, swallowing against the guilt and an anger of his own now. As much as he may be enjoying their exchange, or would be if Eliot ever got on with it, his son was not up for discussion.

"I'm just following you," Eliot denied. "Doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out this thing with the Scotts is hitting home for you. Hard. And just for the record, " Eliot warned, a hand tangling in his hair and pulling hard until Nate had no choice but to follow the younger man's lead, his head falling back until he was looking into furious blue eyes. "You ever pull a stunt like that again and I will blister your backside until you can't sit down for a week."

A totally unexpected shock of arousal burned through the rest of the alcohol, leaving him a little more sober and hard as a rock. He had never really gotten off on domination before…at least not this fast.

"Oh I don't think so." The chuckle rolled over him, sending a another wave of heat through him. "In the mood I'm in? You'll be lucky to get off sometime this month."

Nate sighed but relented, knowing Eliot meant what he said. More than that, he was right. Nate wasn't a complete asshole. He knew they had a job to do and that staying tossed the whole time wasn't doing the fam - the client any good.

"What? I didn't quite hear that."

"Yes sir."

"That's good. Get cleaned up and meet me in my room in 15 minutes." Eliot relaxed, the hand in his hair sliding out as he started to walk away. Just before the door he turned, adding, "Oh, and Nate? I see you with another drink in your hand this job and that spanking? Will be in front of the team bent over the conference room table."

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Watching the Scotts moving into their new house sent a warm wave of satisfaction through him. *This* was the job, and it was well worth the twists and turns to make it come out right.

Nate jumped at the gravel voice suddenly in his ear, Eliot crowded in closely from behind. "Don't think I don't know you disobeyed me."

"I - Eliot.."

Eliot chuckled darkly, warm breath ghosting in his ear as the younger man brushed by him as if making his way to the car. "Relax. Sophie told me you were a good boy."

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?"

"Nope. Means I may let you blow me on the plane, though."

Smiling at the retreating back, Nate allowed himself a moment to admire the muscles working under the white shirt before slipping on his sunglasses and following along behind. "Good enough."

End


End file.
